


Storage Room C-1

by LazyBaker



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, First Meetings, First Time, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Internalized Homophobia, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Season 1, Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-09
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-12-25 14:37:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12037980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LazyBaker/pseuds/LazyBaker
Summary: Within five minutes of meeting the infamous Oswald Cobblepot, Ed had his pants around his ankles and was stumbling through losing his virginity.





	Storage Room C-1

**Author's Note:**

> As much as I love blushing virgin Oswald who would swoon into a dead faint if Ed gave him a peck on the cheek, I also love the idea of Oswald meeting Ed and deciding that, yes, the GCPD is the perfect place for a morning quickie.
> 
> Hallucination Ed (AKA 'Not-Ed') speaks in _italics_

In the basement of the GCPD were the old interview rooms—now storage rooms—half-abandoned and packed full of boxes that had yet to, and would likely never be, properly sorted. The rooms were covered in rope like webs from wall to wall and a coating of dust so thick it had adhered permanently to every possible surface. There was a rancid stench of mustiness from the lack of windows. 

But still only _half_ -abandoned. Ed’s current hypothesis that he’d settled on, which was now proven entirely correct and he did feel a smidge proud because of this, was that the basement of the GCPD was used for more _unofficial_ business. 

 _Oh my god, Ed. Screwing. The basement is used for screwing. There are more condoms on the floor than tiles,_ Not-Ed said, standing to his left, his voice booming in exasperation with Ed’s growing bewilderment at the situation he had quite literally walked himself into.

Dr. Guerra had forced him into taking an early and lengthy break after Ed had, apparently, overstepped his very limiting boundaries again. It was not the ideal predicament and he had for the first time considered applying to a different precinct, one where Dr. Guerra would be replaced with a much more considerate and polite coroner. Hopefully. 

But then _The Penguin_ had appeared and now Ed was downstairs where, officially, no one was permitted to be. Though it was one of those tricky lax rules.

Storage room C-1 smelled particularly of mildew. Suspicious black spots were on the ceiling trailing down the walls and especially in one corner bare of any of the rotten cardboard boxes that filled the space. There must have been a flood, the water damage too severe and high up for it to have been anything else. He would have to research it later at home. Or maybe he’d ask Detective Bullock, if he was in the right mood.

The deplorable state of the basement caused the back of Ed’s head to itch, the need to grab his cleaning supplies and scrub and organize grew strong, well within the range of urgent. It would take weeks, possibly months to do the entire floor of the basement, but the prospect of such a large challenge would undoubtedly bring with it quite a lot of satisfaction when he would finish. Along with the likely hood of gaining some well deserved status in the precinct.

 _Ed, Ed, Ed, Ed, Ed, Eddie,_ Not-Ed said.

Ed could right at this moment be breathing in rancid air. Swiftly he covered his mouth with his sleeve pulled over his hand and took a survey of himself. No watery eyes. He had no urge to scratch at his throat or cough until he was heaving. 

 _You’re avoiding the issue at hand, Eddie,_ Not-Ed drawled. A lilt to his voice suggesting Ed stop, breathe, and _focus_.

Oswald Cobblepot had one hand on Ed’s chest and the other around the knot of Ed’s tie, pulling the ends out of Ed’s sweater. He had pushed Ed against the closed door of storage room C-1. Ed’s glasses slipped down his nose as he stared and then slowly blinked, focusing his eyes on Oswald who was nearly a head shorter than him. 

In the dark lighting—the room’s lightbulb was weak and most probably over twenty years old from its aged yellow almost brown hue and had a slim chance of lasting much longer as it seemed to flicker at a random sequence — _Focus. Focus. Focus. Or step aside and let me in_ —

Freckles and bright blue dilated irides stared back up at him, the dim light making Oswald’s eyes shine. He was grinning. Ed did not know what his grin meant, but it was a positive sign. People didn’t smile when they were angry. Smiles equalled happy and happy was good. Which meant Ed was being good.

“Two little rules before we begin.” Oswald said and Ed nodded. Rules. He could work with rules. He understood _rules._ “First, if you try anything — _anything_ —funny I will slit your throat, regardless of our current cop ridden setting. Second, we keep this quiet. If I hear one word about what’s about to occur in here, I will, well, what do you think I’ll do?”

“Slit my throat?” Ed said.

“Look at that, you’re as smart as you are _handsome_. Very good.” 

Ed had a brief moment to feel quite proud of himself before Oswald patted at his coat and pulled out a thin black switchblade, flicking it open. The knife was long, wispily sharp, and clean, well taken care of. 

Oswald grabbed Ed by the tail of his tie and pulled him close, pressed the tip of the blade against Ed’s throat with just enough pressure for Ed to feel how sharp the knife was and for him to imagine vividly what Oswald could do to him if he simply pushed slightly more.

Ed swallowed. The resulting _gulp_ loud between them.

Not-Ed gasped. _Hello, I like him._

“Now do we have an understanding, my friend?” Oswald said into his ear, the peculiar raspiness of his voice and his proximity, the way his knife was right there under his Adam’s apple—no one had been this close to Ed in years—made him shiver down to his toes, his eyes fluttering closed.

“Understood.” Ed said. Nodding his head many times. “Nothing funny and keep it hush-hush. Got it.”

Without looking away from him, Oswald flicked the switchblade closed and slid it back inside his coat in one fluid, practiced motion. His hands immediately found their way back onto Ed, rubbing at his chest, playing with the tail ends of his tie. From the harshness of the blade to the softness of Oswald’s hands kneading and pawing at him—it was exhilarating. And to be touched? It felt so nice.

 _I bet if you’re quick you could steal it. He’s small and with that limp? Easy to overpower, even for someone like you, Eddie. It’d be a shame not to do it._ Not-Ed said, standing right behind Oswald. _He’d look so good crying with all that mascara, don’t you think?_

“You’re a bit green, aren’t you, Ed?” Oswald said. 

His hand slipped lower and stopped on Ed’s stomach, rubbing him in small circles. Through his lab coat and sweater and shirt Ed could feel how hot Oswald’s hand was. Ed shifted on his feet, his hands gripping the sides of his lab coat with uncertainty over what he should be doing, how he should reciprocate. He had to swallow before he tried to even attempt a reply.

“I know the logistics, Mr. Penguin.” Ed said, his voice coming out strangled and nervous, but it was okay because Oswald laughed and kept touching him which meant he couldn’t be laughing _at_ him. 

Not-Ed groaned into his hands.

“That’s a start. _That_ is something I can work with.” Oswald said. “Usually I do this sort of thing back at the club, but some days there’s this itch—“ Oswald stopped petting him and cupped him instead, massaging him through his pants. Ed’s head thunked against the door as he gasped, his nails made quiet screeches scratching at the worn wood behind him. Oh! “—this darn, insufferable _itch_ that just refuses to wait. I’m sure you understand this as well, my friend.”

“Oh—oh dear. Oh dear.” Ed said. Eyes closed. His mind a curious, quiet buzz completely centered on the sensation of Oswald working his dick with the flat of his palm with such surety and quickness Ed was bulldozing his way towards climaxing. 

But just as Ed began to tense Oswald let him go, leaving Ed panting and scrambling to stay upright and not immediately slide down to the floor. Ed whimpered, the sound stripped of any and all pride as his cock, his whole body, twitched to be touched again.

Oswald pried one of Ed’s hands off of his lab coat and placed a condom in his shaking palm.

“I’m going to assume you know what to do with this, yes?”

“A prophylactic.” Ed nodded. Stared at the small blue square of foil, wondering why it felt so odd in his hand.

“If you don’t want to do this anymore...”

Ed clutched the condom to his chest. Oswald was scowling at him. “No, no. I do want... _this_. I definitely want to do this, Mr. Penguin.”

“Good.” Oswald said. “Less staring, then, it’s just a condom. Hopefully it’ll fit. It’s the biggest one I have.” Oswald smiled. “Aren’t I the lucky one, hm?” 

Ed’s entire face flushed in bright red heat. The pleasant buzz in his head burst as adrenaline set in for what was going to happen.

Oswald walked to the opposite side of the small room, pushed a few cardboard boxes off of the rusting table, the boxes exploding apart in a cloud of dust, and gave the table a few hard shoves. The legs squealed, but stayed steady. He was testing it for endurance for what they were about to do.

Ed didn’t move to put the condom on. In fact, he was considering leaving right then. While he was never one to turn down a new opportunity to learn, this was a leap even for him. He had known Oswald for all of two minutes before following him down into the basement to a room Oswald had clearly been in before. 

Then there was Kristen Kringle, the love of his life just upstairs with her perfect red lipstick who was always so kind to Ed.

To do this in the GCPD was another checkmark for his con list. The lock on the C-1 storage room was so rusted it couldn’t actually lock. Anyone could wander in after hearing Ed make a fool of himself. The sound proofing of the walls was nonexistent and the hall was an echo chamber. What would Detective Bullock or Detective Gordon or even the Captain say after hearing he was caught with _The Penguin_?

 _Bull shit,_ Not-Ed said. Hissing right into Ed’s ear, making him wince. _You’re just afraid daddy’s going to catch you and give his ole pal, Belty, a call. Admit it, Ed. You’re a coward still hiding in your closet from dad—_

“No—“ Ed said, erection flagging as a chill ran through him a the mention of _that man_. He shook himself, willing that cold anger to leave. He refocused and attempted to cover his outburst. “Sorry. I didn’t mean...” 

Ed trailed off. Oswald wasn’t paying any attention to him.

One arm braced on the table, Oswald had his pants pulled down around his knees with his free hand between his thighs stretching himself open. Ed could only catch broken pieces of small, nasally moans which were smothered by the crook of his arm. The slickness of his fingers caught the flickering light, glistening in such a way Ed was unable to close his mouth or look away. Not-Ed was silent.

Ed didn’t realize he had moved closer until the scent of lubrication and what must be the beginnings of musk or sweat or _sex_ hit his nose. Oswald’s fingers plunged into himself in a wet squelching slide, his ass full and round and so pale, god, Ed could touch him right now, pinch him with just a bit of pressure and blemish his delicate skin with red.

Ed wiped at the sweat on his forehead. His glasses were already fogging up.

Oswald looked over his shoulder, his face a dark blush. His smile gone. He was scowling at Ed again. 

“Are you ready or should I go find someone else?”

“Of course, just—just one second.” Ed said, yanking himself away. 

Turning around, he fumbled with the condom’s packaging. Blue foil. Latex. Already lubricated. His fingers slipped, too sweaty.

Taking a very long breath, Ed stopped before he could tear it. He didn’t want to have to ask for another condom. He should have his own on hand, that’s what men do, after all. He had a box of them back at home. 

Why didn’t he ever bring one with him? Stick one in his wallet? Now he just looked like an inexperienced novice. An obvious virgin.

 _Because you’re not a man, Eddie._ Not-Ed said standing next to Oswald, his hand rubbing at Oswald’s thin lower back. He shrugged. _You’re just a pussy._

No. Ed refused to give into him and he turned his head away. Impatient with himself and not-himself, he unzipped and put the condom on with little trouble and no tearing. His hands shaking only slightly. Step one completed and not a mishap yet.

Oswald had his legs spread as wide as his pants allowed, his hard cock hanging heavy between his thighs, his hole open and so pink and wet and waiting just for Ed. All he would have to do was push inside.

But he hesitated.

“Your leg.” Ed said. “Will it be all right at that angle?”

 _Nice,_ Not-Ed said, _really sets the mood_. 

Oswald half turned with his head still resting on his forearms, staring at him. Eyebrow up in, Ed thought, disbelief.

“What?”

“Your leg?”

“My _leg?_ My leg.” Oswald’s face seemed to go redder, his freckles glowing in the dim light of their corner of the room. He buried his face back into his arms, muffling his voice. “What nonsense—it’s fine. Will you hurry up?”

“Oh. Okay.”

Ed moved to stand over Oswald, inches from touching him. There were freckles on the back of his neck, his skin had gone pink there too. His suit had bunched upward, displayed his narrow waist, the knobs of his spine jutting out where he was bent over. Ed counted Oswald’s vertebrae, tapping at them in the air as he worked his way down.

Holding his breath, Ed finally allowed himself to look down to the welcoming sight of his plump backside. Slowly Ed cupped each cheek in his hand, squeezed and grinned when Oswald wiggled his hips back at him. Ed pulled at Oswald’s cheeks, splaying them open further for him to see every bit of that pink winking center of him.

It was so surreal. Odd, even. Absolutely fascinating more than anything else. He had come to work today expecting nothing but the usual daily trials.

Ed squeezed Oswald again. He was so soft! Ed had to touch him more and everywhere he could. He pressed his thumb against his rim wet with lubricant. Watched in amazement how his thumb slipped right in. No resistance at all. Ed pushed deeper, mouth falling open at how hot Oswald was inside, how he could feel him moving, breathing. So different than the bodies he interacts with daily.

Oswald made a soft sound and this drove Ed to pull out and plunge his thumb back inside, eager to hear him again. He pressed his cock against one side of Oswald’s ass, rubbing himself as he fingered him. Any nerves he had slowly fading.

This was _The Penguin_ whose official police record Ed had reread hundreds of times. He had even made his own personal file back home, packed with any and every article that mentioned Oswald by name or alluded to him. 

It had been intimidating being propositioned and led down to the basement by someone he had admired for so long, but now, feeling Oswald tender underneath him, Ed was filled with confidence.

 _Come on. Would you get on with it?_ Not-Ed growled at him. He looked over Ed’s shoulder, chest pressed against Ed’s back. _You know how to do this. It’s not like you haven’t watched and rewatched this exact scenario a million times. Get your dick wet and pound that little ass like a real man or I'll do it myself._

“Shut up.” Ed said, grinding the words together. 

He yanked his thumbs out of Oswald. He had wanted to take his time. This was his first and he couldn’t bear the idea of it not going well. It was meant to be _special_ and if he rushed it he might make a mistake. It would be over too soon.

Phantom hands gripped Ed by his hips. The hard line of an erection pressed against his backside. He whipped his head to the side to see Not-Ed grinning at him.

 _Fuck that,_ Not-Ed said.

Not-Ed reached around and grabbed Ed’s dick. Ed keened as Not-Ed jerked him in rough quick pulls and guided Ed forward. Pressing the head of his cock to Oswald’s rim, not hesitating, not taking a moment to revel in that soft velvet skin on his cock, his grip steady on Ed and his hips a determined force driving Ed into Oswald.

Hot.

Oswald was so unbelievably _hot_ and _tight_ , squeezing around Ed and pulling him deeper and deeper until Ed’s thighs finally met Oswald’s ass. The heat of a living, breathing person surrounding him punched the air out of Ed. He dug his fingers into the lush mounds of Oswald’s cheeks, steadying himself and kneading them in his grip as his heartbeat thundered in his ears. Only just barely could he hear Oswald’s ‘took you long enough’ before Ed made him choke with a hard, instinct driven thrust of his hips.

He watched himself sink into and out of Oswald, fascinated how his once small pink rim was pulled taut into a perfect ‘o’ swallowing the thick girth of his cock.

As swiftly as when Oswald had had his hand on him, Ed felt the beginning of his orgasm. Legs tensing. That coil inside of him twisting tight.

 _Seriously? Jesus christ, Ed. Are you going to come? Already? You think The Penguin is going to be impressed with your piss poor performance?_  

Ed’s hold on Oswald turned white knuckle hard, his nails biting into his hips.

“Shut up. Shut up. _Shut up!_ ” Ed said as he pounded into Oswald, punctuating every word with a harsh jab that made their skin slap together in an obscene sound.

Oswald was scratching at the table, trying to find a good hold, his moans gaining a higher pitch every time Ed slammed into him. 

“Pull my hair.” Oswald slipped a hand between his thighs and—oh, Ed realized, he was jerking himself off. “Please pull my hair—“

“O—kie dokie.” Ed said. Panting. Sweat dripping down his nose and back and what felt like everywhere. 

He grabbed the back of Oswald’s head, getting a fistful of his hair and pulled until Oswald’s back was arched and he came, clenching around Ed in tight spasms. Ed chased after them, coming deep inside of him, grinding into him until his knees were shaking, his insides compressed together. He had no idea what sounds he was making but they were lewd and likely embarrassing. 

He stayed bent over Oswald, his orgasm creating white spots in his eyes. He let his hair go. Gel and hairspray and sweat making his hand sticky. 

Oswald was resting his head on the table. Ed panted against his neck and cried out when Oswald shifted with Ed still very much inside of him. He was so _warm_. Ed found himself nuzzling his back.

“Rule number three,” Oswald said out of breath and sounding far grittier than before. “No cuddling whatsoever.”

That snapped Ed out of his daze. Quickly he pulled out, grunting at the sensation—his entire body was so sensitive at the moment.

Ed stumbled backwards, his back hitting the door with a loud thud that rattled the hinges. For a moment he thought he had broken a hole straight through it. Chest heaving, it was difficult to catch his breath. 

All of his clothes felt like they were glued to him. Too many layers. Too hot. He tugged at his collar, which was damp with sweat. 

His entire body tingled with an inner fuzzy warmth, that earlier buzz returning, but louder and more intense, an entirely new experience.

He peeled off the condom and before he tied it he held it up to the light. There was his sperm and the shiny remains of what was left of the lubricant. The proof that this had happened. Not seeing any suitable receptacle and unwilling to toss it on the floor like the others’ who had used this room before him, he wrapped a tissue around it and shoved it into his pants’ pocket.

He pulled his glasses off. Wiped the sweat from his brow, combed the hair falling on his forehead back with his fingers. Thoroughly and completely wrecked was how he felt. His muscles lax. His knees shaky. A mess of body fluids and wrinkled, sweat dampened clothes.

Ed grinned.

He’d done it. Finally, he’d done it. And with someone as remarkable as _The Penguin!_

Not-Ed started clapping.

 _Congratulations. You did what every imbecile has managed to do since puberty. Great job._ Not-Ed gave him two thumbs-up.

Ed shook his head. No, he wouldn’t let that other him ruin this moment. 

Oswald had wanted him. Oswald had chosen him. Out of all the meatheads in the precinct Oswald had picked _Ed_.

_And definitely not because you were the most convenient cock on the farm or anything._

But Ed ignored him, it was easier to ignore him now, didn’t even look in his direction. His good mood would not be tarnished. Taking out his handkerchief from his lab coat, Ed cleaned his glasses, wiping away the lingering fog of sex.

Oswald pulled out a compact mirror. Slim. Black. A silver rose emblem on the back. He combed at his hair, bringing back their usual vertical points then spent an especially long time fixing his bangs, brushing them into sharp, long slim points that teased at the edges of his eyes.

Oswald was a meticulous man and within the time Ed had righted himself, Oswald had redressed with such precision no one looking at him would know what he’d been up to. That Ed had been with him. 

The thought lingered bittersweetly. It was unexpected. 

No one would know. Only Ed.

Oswald snapped his compact shut. His cheeks were still ruddy with a slight flush, the remnants of sweat making his sideburns stick to his face.

“How’s my hair?”

“Very reminiscent of a bird.” Ed said and then laughed, bouncing between that bitterness and the giddiness bubbling inside him in a manic swirl. He clasped his hands in front of his chest. “I don’t—that was amazing, Mr. Penguin.”

Oswald shrugged, a softer smile on his face than the edged grin he was known for. 

“What can I say? I know what boys like you like.”

“Like me?”

_Like dad always said, ‘Ed, you dumbass little fa—‘_

“You’re very easy to read, Ed. You wear infatuation on your sleeve like you do with this pen case in your pocket. Everyone can see it and I’m far from blind.” Oswald said. “Now, I’ll head up first then in five minutes you can leave and get back to—to whatever it is you do—“

“—Forensic scientist.”

“Yes, that. We don’t want to draw any unwanted attention.”

And that was that. The warm buzz in his body seemed to drain out of him at Oswald’s words. They’d had sex and _that was that_. 

He watched detached and far away as Oswald buttoned his suit jacket and went for the door knob, looking up at Ed expectantly, waiting for him to move and get out of his way.

“From person to person my values may differ, but the amount of me will stay unchanged. What am I?” Ed said in a rush.

Oswald stared at him for a long moment, his brows pushed together, that small furrow meaning he was confused. Ed was feeling far too many things to give disappointed much mind.

“Are you asking me a riddle? Now? _Again?_ ”

“Yes.” Ed said. He pushed his sliding glasses back up his nose. “It’s very simple, but if you need one I’ll even give you a hint.”

Oswald continued to stare at him and Ed was certain he would be rebuked as he usually was, but then Oswald patted his cheek, his hand resting just below Ed’s glasses. 

“My number changes on a weekly basis. I could give you an answer now, but in a day it would be wrong.” He said. “Let’s not get clingy.”

“Oh.” Ed said, his face falling in disappointment.

Oswald’s hand lingered hot on Ed’s cheek, the quiet settling in the room.

“You’re sweet, Ed. You have these infuriatingly big puppy dog eyes. Very irritating. Truly.” Oswald straightened Ed’s tie, cinching the knot tighter and pulled. “Lean down will you.”

Ed did. Oswald combed Ed’s hair with both his hands. Ed could smell him up close again like this, but without the distraction of sex he could parse out the general scents. Sweat and cigarettes and some underlying floral perfume that Ed will obsess over later. 

He then angled Ed’s glasses so they sat straight on his head. He tucked Ed’s tie back into his sweater and readjusted his lab coat so it sat on his shoulders properly. He zipped up Ed’s fly with a smirk and a friendly pat. Ed flushed and, embarrassingly, was starting to get hard again from being touched.

“There, now you look presentable or as presentable as one can in this abysmal lighting—oh my what’s this?” Oswald was staring and Ed quickly pulled his lab coat shut and crossed his arms. “I’m beginning to think your virgin act isn’t so much of an act. How unromantic of me, I almost feel bad.”

Ed didn’t want to admit none of this had been an act for him, though the implication gave him some pause as the idea of Oswald putting on an act struck him by surprise. But that couldn’t be true, could it? What would be the point?

“I’m not used to being touched and my body is obviously responding to the outside stimuli in what it perceives to be the correct, in context, way” Ed said. He sighed, resigned to this slight bodily hiccup. “Sorry.”

Oswald waved him off. 

“If I didn’t have such a busy day, maybe,” Oswald trailed off and that ‘maybe’ hung in the air, luring Ed closer with it’s potential. “But I’m afraid I really can’t stay. Maroni is a bit of nag when it comes to tardiness.”

“That’s all right.” Ed said. Face red and his erection stubbornly persistent. “Thank you for—this. I had a nice time.”

“Relax, my friend. You’re not walking me to my door and I’m not expecting any flowers.” Oswald said and buttoned his jacket. “Five minutes. At the very least.”

He left. 

Ed sat on the rusted table, he could still feel Oswald's body heat in the metal of the tabletop, and stared at the closed door and at his watch. 

“Dr. Guerra is going to be very, very angry with me.” Ed said.

Not-Ed rolled his eyes.

 

**Author's Note:**

> \- sexually confident, but feelings/intimacy/relationship-virgin Oswald is my jam  
> \- Ed being a fumbling, nerdy, sweetie is also my jam  
> \- Oswald may be a dick, but Hallucination Ed is a much bigger throbbing dick  
> \- Oswald is 100% not used to someone being nice to him  
> \- Ed's obsession with Oswald has now entered 'hardcore mode'  
> \- I was determined to have Ed say 'okie dokie'
> 
>  
> 
> [tumblr](http://granpappy-winchester.tumblr.com)


End file.
